Dear John: In response to your last
by Missy the Least
Summary: AU - 8 months after Sherlock has 'died' Lestrade browbeats John into setting up a profile on a dating website. A mystery man named 'William' answers and they begin an on-line romance. Once again, we know what John does not; William is Sherlock, still trying to bring down Moriarty's network. One day, John asks a particular question, and 'William' must give an answer...
1. Chapter 1

Dear John: In response to your last

A/N: One-shot inspired by the amazing fic of wendymarlow called "Dear John", particularly Chapter 33 – "Sunday, January 18th."

On AO3: /works/2647979/chapters/6744731

On FFN: s/10838084

While I believe that this little snippet of mine can stand on its own, do not deprive yourself of the pleasure of reading her stunning prose and spot-on dialogue, and do read her story.

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Sometime Monday night/Tuesday morning, January 19th – 20th.

Dear John:

In response to your last, you asked me to tell you "something true" about myself.

In truth, I don't know what to say. So much of what must be said must wait until we are face-to-face.

Other 'truths' are so basic and mundane, they are not worth the time to type. Several of those you already know, as I have been as open as possible about my past, given my job and our circumstances.

Still, you have asked, and I will never deny you anything that is within my power to do or say or give.

A Truth: I despise the name "William". It is too common; the diminutives too absurd. It means 'desire to protect' more often translated as 'protector of the realm'. I never wanted to protect the realm. As a little boy, I sided with the rebels. I would rather have been ambushing the unwary and arrogant, amassing treasures and adventures the world over, than stuck inside with the stuffy and responsible. And yet, now that I have you in my life, I find myself growing fonder of the name and its meaning. I finally have something, someone in my life worth protecting.

Another: I can hardly wait to hear you say my name. The sound and shape of it in your mouth – do you have a London accent?

William

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Sometime Monday night/Tuesday morning, January 19th – 20th. – 1 hour after the previous post:

Molly

Send this to John immediately when I ask, but not a second sooner – SH

John – What I really wanted to send 19.01.2015

Dear John:

In response to your last, you asked me to tell you "something true" about myself.

In truth, I don't know what to say. I cannot give myself away to you yet. Moriarty is dead, his masterweb unraveled, but I cannot risk you, I cannot risk Mrs. Hudson or Lestrade, not when we are so close to victory. Too soon a reveal, and you are all dead.

Orpheus did not fail his Eurydice until he felt the sun on his face; I will not make his mistake, I will not turn from my course until I know that the battle is over. And yes John, I do know the great myths as I know the great religions; it was for a case, and religions, past or present, often figure in crime.

Still, you have asked me for a truth and I will never deny you anything that is within my power to do or say or give. I may delay it, but I will never deny it. (You asked me not to be dead, and it took all my willpower not to reveal myself, knowing that dismantling Moriarty's network might yet kill me. I am sure that I am explaining it to you, badly as usual.)

So a Truth:

John.

You are the truth of me.

You have called me your Universe; I, frightened by that grave responsibility, asked for perhaps a bit less, because I am every hard name that anyone has ever called me, and all that I have called myself. I am unworthy of such an honor, but I swear that I will do my utmost to be worthy of that title.

You on the other hand, have nothing to worry about; you are already my Universe, my Conductor of Light. The Light in my darkness; you illuminate with understanding everything that I see, but don't observe, if I see it at all. Without you, I fumble in the darkness of my own ignorance.

Without you, I am blind.

Another Truth:

Because of my mental blindness, I will hurt you when I bang around and about, all elbows and knees and feet. I will blunder, I will bluster, I will flail uselessly as I try to make sense of feelings that the average 5 year old will have mastered.

Only one of many many reasons that I need you in my life. YOU are my interpreter of what to me is an alien world, a foreign tongue. You are my Braille book, my Rosetta Stone, my Bible, my 'bit not good'.

I will invariably hurt you, and I certainly will be begging for forgiveness on a regular basis. But please, John, my John, forgive me anyways, because I am nothing without my Blogger.

A Third:

I love the name 'John'. Yes, it is even more common than William, with diminutives that are the reverse of shortening a name for friendly effect and affect. Still, I find the name sounds strong, no-nonsense, deceptively simple, but with a wealth of hidden meaning. It means "grace of God" and I can think of no finer nor fitter name that perfectly sums up the totality of you in a single syllable.

You are the grace of God to me, Captain John H. Watson, MD, RAMC.

A Final:

The worst part about being apart was that you were in pain, that I caused that pain, and was unable to honestly and completely alleviate that pain.

All because I wasn't there.

I seldom if ever make promises; they are too easily broken. But now I make one to you, my first and last vow, even if you never forgive me (but please please DO and allow us to start again).

John: whatever it takes, whatever happens, from now on I swear I will _always _be there, _always_.

Please John, let me come home and live again. For you.

Your Sherlock

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A/N: Here's hoping that I did right by fic and fandom! Currently un-betaed, but I had to get this down and out. Thank you again WendyMarlowe for your kindness in allowing this fic to proceed. 4Th &amp; 3rd paragraph from the end is of course a quote from the end of the wedding before the general dancing in Series 3, Episode 2, The Sign of Three, slightly paraphrased to suit.

Comments welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

Dear John: In response to your last

A/N: One-shot that needs a little more, so here is Chapter 2, based upon the amazing fic of wendymarlow called "Dear John",

On AO3: /works/2647979/chapters/6744731

On FFN: s/10838084

Don't be the last one in fandom to find out what all the flailing is about, read her story!

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Chapter 2 – late Saturday night/early Sunday morning, January 31st – February 1st.

(corresponding to Chapter 54 – "Late Saturday, January 31st." )

John's phone, incoming text, unk number: pls read attached should help phil.

John: Sorry don't open from strangers – duck off

John: Damn autocorrect

unk number: its me phil

John: Who?

unk number: anderson phil from nsy lestrade gave me yr no

John: Ok why?

unk number: pls read attached

John: Can't open

unk number: ok sherlock recent med recds bad time beating radial fracture infections lung damag

unk number: lucky bad guys wanted pain not death disbmembr rite away

John: Why are u telling me this?

unk number: sherlock no lie solved mny cases he died for u kill for u mr. holms sd u mad sherlock died my fallt

John: Phil not ur fall - duck autocorrt sry using off hand dr splint othr

unk number: sory i hate text

unk number: pls forgiv him i owe u both truth

John: Ok

John: Phil? thx

Notes:

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A/N: Again un-betaed, but with the important input of the readers, hopefully this revised Chapter will clear up all the confusion. There will be one more chapter and maybe an epilogue (I'm fond of those).

Thank you wendymarlowe for your on-going encouragement and kindness. And I want to thank the entire 'Dear John' Fandom for your collective and enormous outpouring of kudos, comments, bookmarks/favoriting and following. I cannot possibly thank you all individually, but I humbly thank you all none the less.

Comments welcome.


	3. Chapter 3

Dear John: In response to your last

A/N: One-shot that needs yet a little more, so here is Chapter 3, based upon the amazing fic of wendymarlow called "Dear John",

On AO3: /works/2647979/chapters/6744731

On FFN: s/10838084

Read this - 61619 (and counting) people must be on to something!

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Chapter 3 – Sunday afternoon, February 1st.

(eliminating Chapter 55 on)

John's phone, outgoing text:

John: Sorry sprained hand punching MY SODDING 'NOT DEAD' FLATMATE! Spent night A&amp;E after arrest - disturbing peace - get us both patched up.

John: Can't use dominant hand, bit not good on pain pills &amp; knackered. Will take rest of week until hand heals. Then another 4 honeymoon. Look fancy invite in post w date, time, place.

Sarah: WHAT?

John: Yeah Sherlock viscount; HRM will be put out if no wedding, Mycroft insists.

Sarah: WHAT?!

John: Don't be tedious, John on Sex Holiday starting now - Good night - SH

John: Sorry bout that. See you next week. JW

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A/N: Un-betaed, so all mistakes my own. There maybe an epilogue (I'm fond of those) with Mycroft making an appearance.

Thank you wendymarlowe for your on-going encouragement and kindness.

Comments welcome.


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